Addictions
by AlexxFury
Summary: She gambles, he drinks, and they're both the best goddamn snipers on Pandora. Short Mordecaya oneshot because this ship needs more love.


She'd been there for three hours.

Three entire goddamn hours.

What in the hell was she doing?

Her dedication to the machine was worrying.

I watched her from a corner of the bar where Moxxi was hidden from my view. I tried to be amicable with the bartender for amicability's sake. Amicability is probably not a word but whatever. Still pissed at the bitch for tryna steal my booze after my bird was murdered. Moxxi's a lot of things, but compassion has never been her strong suit. Learned that the hard way.

Anyways. Maya was usin' those slot machines like it was her religion. Sometimes she'd get both of 'em goin' at once, running back and forth and grabbing whatever loot popped out. Sometimes grenades would pop out and she'd just walk away enough so only her shield took damage. People in the bar were all either too smashed or too apathetic or just too familiar with the sound of explosions to even give her a second look. And whenever she ran out of cash she'd pick up her loot, sell it off, and come back for more gambling.

See, that's the part I don't get. Yeah, they're fuckin' vending machines that give out _guns_. I'd be pretty excited too if I wasn't already happy with my gear. But she just sells everything she gets from it. Like she just wants to play the game. Christ if she's that bored she could just order a damn ECHOsim and play that instead of spending all that cash on over-priced prizes that she hocks anyways.

I'm starting to think she's got a gambling addiction.

I'm also starting to think she noticed me staring at her and is approaching.

Shit. I'm in no way sober enough to hold a conversation right now. Preparing to making an ass out of myself in three...two…

"What are you staring at, Mordecai?"

Doing my best to not have to speak, I just gave her a shrug. The incorrect response, because she then gave me a death look, her hand on her hip. It fit snugly on the part of tattooed skin that her suit didn't cover, and I quickly found myself distracted by the way her long torso curved.

Wow I'm smashed, I should not be thinking about that right now. Her eyes are further up, Mordy.

"Y'know," I began, forcing myself to look at her and feeling like I was about to be floating in another dimension in just a moment. "Addiction is a bad motherfucker."

"Addiction?" the Siren raised one of her curved eyebrows, ethereal eyes looking at the lager in my hand. I waved it off with my free one, movements clumsy from one too many.

"You use them slot machines an awful lot, chica," I slowly slurred, leaning forward a bit. "It's been three hours now. Ain't you outta dinero by now?"

Maya paused, then shrugged herself.

"I few times, yeah. Doesn't happen often."

"Cuz you sell everything you get from 'em."

"I don't…" she paused, her painted blue lips pursing. "Not _everything_. Besides, I'm not addicted, just trying to get good gear."

"Then buy some. Marcus ain't that far of a trip, chica."

She crossed her arms and sat down across from me, sighing with what sounded like frustration.

"Marcus sells shit. Expensive shit that's not as good as half the gear I loot. Not to mention I got Pitchfork out of those machines."

I nodded slightly, kind of starting to understand. Pitchfork was Maya's sniper rifle, and one of the most badass guns around in a while. I'd seen her tear right through bandit camps with nothing but Pitchfork and a good vantage point. It's easy to see how a win that good could make someone look for a win even better. Even if it cost tons of cash.

"But I'm not addicted." she denied firmly.

"And I'm not a drunk." I replied, tipping my lager at her before taking another drink.

"Oh shut up, Mordy." she retorted. "I can quit whenever I want."

I just looked at her with a shit-eating grin and she just looked at me with an annoyed expression.

"Okay so maybe I'm a little addicted." Maya conceded. "So? What else am I gonna spend my money on when I find more than enough ammo and good gear through looting?"

"My answer is booze."

"I'm starting to think that your answer is always booze."

"Look at it this way," I ignored her comment because it was rather truthful. "Do you like winning crap gear from the things?"

"Well...no."

"Have you gotten any good gear besides the rifle?"

"...no."

"Then is it worth it?"

The silence was ridiculously lengthy. Or maybe I'm just ridiculously drunk.

"Do you like hangovers?" she retorted.

"Fix it with more booze."

"Do you like being unsteady and a bad aim?"

"Oh please, querida. I'm an even better shot when I'm drunk."

"You shot Axton three times in Tundra Express."

"What, you thought that was on accident?"

Judging by the look on her face and the fact that she didn't laugh with me, she didn't find that one amusing.

"Why do you even care what I spend my money on?" Maya asked, obviously seeing that trying to turn the table on my own habits was a dead-end.

"I don't really care, but I'm curious about why."

"Then why'd you start the conversation with a comment on addiction?"

"Cuz addictions'll eat you up inside, Maya. Physically, emotionally, don't matter."

"I thought you just said you didn't care."

"I don't care about what you spend your money on. I _do_ care about you."

More silence. Her glare turned into a look of surprise.

"You what now?"

"You were the one that helped me most after Blood got killed," I pointed out slowly. "Gettin' me that Rakk Ale, lettin those creatures loose in the Preserve. And now that Roland and Lilith…." I found myself unable to finish that particular statement. "Jack's taken three of my best friends. I'll be real pissed if I lose you too."

"I'm...touched." Maya replied in a stunned tone. "Really, I…didn't realize you thought so highly of me."

I laughed, looking at my half-empty lager thoughtfully. Hey, maybe my luck with ladies isn't so bad after all; suck it, Moxxi.

"Hey. Wanna go kill stuff?" I offered, setting aside the booze and standing up.

"You sure you're sober enough for that?"

"The real question is, am I drunk enough for it. The answer to that is yes, by the way."

Maya rolled her pretty eyes and stood up with me, stepping towards the door.

"Vamonos, then."

"Ay, she learns!"


End file.
